“We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing ...” ~George Bernard Shaw

... hmmm, guess that means, I'll never grow old. ~CJ

I can't think of anything that hurts worse than stubbing a toe. Well, that's not quite true . There is one thing worse -- stubbing a toe at MY age.

I don't know about you, but I hate wearing shoes -- always have. I think I spent my entire childhood in my bare feet. Well, that's not quite true . We did have some nasty winters in Ohio, and we even got snow, so knowing my parents, I'm sure I wore both shoes and boots all winter. But I'll bet when I came indoors, I kicked both shoes and boots off by the front door and that's where they stayed until I went outside again. I do know my childhood was spent with at least one, if not both big toes bandaged the entire summer.

Anyway, I'm getting myself all side-tracked here. This morning while I was sitting here writing, I heard the garbage truck next door and realized suddenly that we had forgotten to put the trash out by the road. It's warm out and, as usual, I was barefoot. Well, I ran out the front door, across the front porch, and down the steps to get to the trash barrels -- just one simple little thing -- and damn, I stubbed my big toe.

... I remember hearing somewhere that hopping around on one foot helps, you know, while you're waiting for the pain to subside. Not true . The truth is, hopping on one foot is something you can't help doing-- it's a reflex action, I think. Oh, and the hopping makes you say bad words, too. They come out all by themselves -- lots of them -- so that must be a reflex action, too. Then, shaking my head at my stupid clumsiness, and still swearing under my breath, I hobbled back up the steps, back across the porch and inside the front door -- and then hopped all the way through the house to the kitchen sink to rinse it off. The darn thing bled like a sun-of-a-gun ...

Now here I am, sixty-one, with a huge bandage on my big toe -- and two full trash barrels that will have to wait. I still can't believe I did that. Oh well, it's warm and I can wear my strappy sandals if I have to go out ... but if you see me somewhere and you dare to laugh, I'll punch you right in the nose.

I have to go. I left a trail of blood drops all the way from the sidewalk to my kitchen sink and, since I'm the grownup now, I have to clean it up. Geez-Louise, it looks like Hansel and Gretel were here and ...